Red, white, blue, and gold
by Tony E.Stark
Summary: Tony had looked up to Captain America since he was little, but that quickly changed when he actually met the man. Tony hates Steve for his self-righteous attitude and Steve dislikes Tony's selfish egotistical ways. Both think the other has to be taken down a notch, but after an argument taken too far, will they learn to like or even love one another? R&R/Smut/StevexTony/after NY
1. Upset, Tony is very upset

_**Ok, so This is my first attempt at a stony fanfiction, a review would be nice so I know if I messed up, or if I need to work on anything, or if you have any tips, you know...**_

_**There will be other parings with the other avengers, but Steve or the handsome playboy won't be paired with anyone else besides one another.**_

_**Small warnings: bullying mentions from when Tony was little and cap before the serum. There will be smut, and terrible fucking language, it's gonna get angsty, but I promise you a proper ending, these two will hate each other for a while with foreshadowing at untold love.**_

_**You're in for a bit of a long ride with this fiction, and always check in because I update chapters a lot.**_

_**And yes I will be posting other chapters depending on how this one goes. Um, so enjoy it.. ㈏9**_

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Parts of red and gold armor, circuit boards, screwdrivers, and odd looking small missiles lay scattered across a glass top desk, with "You shook me all night long" blaring throughout the lab slash workshop at a deafening level. In the middle of this high-tech madness and overly loud rock music, a man sits hunched over the desk, sweat rolling down his forehead and his hands busied with the detailing of a new prototype.

Once all parts are properly placed and the casing is clicked on, dark brown eyes inspect the indestructible specimen of technology. With his bottom lip pinched between his teeth, he begins taking apart the phone to correct any faults- which he knows there are none, but the genius wants-_ needs_, to keep his mind distracted.

On the outside he seems calmly absorbed in his work, on the inside he's coming to a boiling point.

If you didn't know him besides what you can read in the paper on his usual scandalous billionaire-playboy antics that degrade the company― or what pepper calls them anyway, he likes to call it having _fun_― all you would see is a great mind at work, except knowing _of_ him is far different from actually _knowing_ him. The only ones who truly know him are the team of heroes he's forced to live with and his two closest friends, one of them being his ex and the other barely around anymore.

If you knew him like they did, you could tell without a doubt that right now, this man is pissed. Not even the lint on the floor being safe from an angry outburst if it happens to get in his way.

Instead of his usual methods for dealing with the annoying things that exceed everyday bullshit, which happens to be drinking himself into a coma, or breaking shit, he chose to lock himself in his lab for six hours, he had all passcodes revoked and cut off any communication, unless you count JARVIS or his occasional "hey, buddy" to the dark grey tabby he keeps in the lab.

He adopted the stray― yes, he of all people adopted a cat, unbelievably it actually did make front page news― after finding it trapped in a pile of rubble from Loki's failed attempt at world domination, he took the cat deciding it could stay with him until it could be adopted. The lab and Tony's room became its home a week later. He started calling the cat 'Cap'― _and it was when he noticed the fluffy little shit loves playing with plastic bottle caps, it has absolutely nothing to do with Captain Dickhead._

Speaking of Captain Dickhead, who is the precise cause of his quickly approaching mental breakdown and the reason why he sat with his hair a disheveled mess, much like the black shirt that rumpled to his somewhat semi-muscular form; the argument between him and the,_ oh so_ great Captain America, continues replaying in his head like a nightmare that can't be shaken― _which he has had plenty of to know._

_They stood merely an inch apart, his eyes almost black in contrast to their normal brown. With every breath his chest pressed against the other's as he took in the bitter words being thrown at him. "You may be as smart as him, might even look like him, Stark, but that's as close as you'll ever get. I remember the man he was and the only words I can think to describe him are honorable, brilliant, caring, and nothing. Like. You. Nothing like the lies you spread about him! A damn dead man, Stark! **Your** father!" The captain spat furiously. "What would he think, Stark? Of you? Of this whole thing? How you would even go as far as to call yourself a hero after everything you've done? You have no respect for me, nor this team! You could have killed them, yet you sit here acting like nothing happened!" he scoffed shaking his head with an emotionless chuckle._

He remembers how the asshole's rant continued on from there, but he'd decided not to stick around for rest of it. He'd listened to enough about why he wasn't a hero, how his selfishness could have cost the team their lives, how he was a failure. If he wanted to hear any of that shit he would have just built a time machine and went back to when his father was still alive― _and drunk_.

He had earlier disobeyed their almighty Captain on an order and caused the tenement they were in to collapse while the team was still fighting off a group of HYDRA experiments gone wrong― and ok, yes, Tony should have listened when Rogers ordered him not to fire anything in the already, ready to collapse building, but it was done on pure _instinct_.

He'd seen one of the- well, what looked like a fucking hunchback nightmare from Notre-dame sneaking up on the Captain while his back was turned, so Tony reacted― _maybe _doing it with a missile wasn't the best idea, but Jesus Christ, it was on _Instinct._

The building had trembled and they barely made it out before the whole thing crumbled into a pile of wood, brick, and dust. The destruction of the building resulted in Rogers getting pissy and starting the argument that lead to Tony storming off, generally because he didn't want to hear another word out of the fucking guy's mouth or he would have punched him (that would have ended in him breaking his hand and he really didn't need that), but it wasn't the whole reason.

Tony stark doesn'tallow people to get to him. Most of them don't know anything about his father nor what he did to Tony, and even if they do, he never paid much attention to what they said anyway. People talk. He'd learned that at an early age― but its different when the person talking is Captain America, the man who knew his father personally, knew he was a sore spot for Tony, and went after it like a wolf for the kill.

A really big red, white, and blue wolf.

Who also happens to be an asshole.

In spandex.

•~°•°~•°•~°•°~•

He's been sitting on this old lumpy couch for hours, guilt threatening to eat him alive if he doesn't do _something, anything_. He knows why he should apologize, but _how _is the real problem.

If Stark thought he didn't see the hurt on his face before he ran off, then the playboy was a bigger idiot than Steve originally thought- or he just didn't care. Steve figured it was the latter.

He recalled watching the man retreat; the way he shook his head before turning and bolting out of the room.

It took a few hours to calm himself and only a second to grasp how cruel he'd been. He knows Tony can get just as vicious- if not worse, but he doesn't like bullies and he sure as hell won't become one. Even if it is an arrogant dick he's dealing with.

Their arguments normally end in Clint, or fury if he's around, having to force them apart, both of them being too stubborn to give in, it's always someone else who has to stop them before it gets out of hand. This time, Stark gave in― worse, he _ran_; normally that would count as a win, but Steve didn't normally cross a line he'd known was there.

He's got plenty of self-control. Always being careful of his temper and keeping his emotions in check. With having the role of team leader it's vital to have control over himself. Tony happens to be someone who knows exactly how to make the control slip, Steve can't figure out how Stark so easily gets to him, but what he does know, is some kind of truce needs to be made.

He stands with a stretch, his muscles aching to be out of the captain America uniform as he leaves the living area and walks down the hall towards his room. Thinking up a proper apology before going to talk with his team mate is probably for the best. No, He doesn't like the belligerent jackass, but Tony is still human, and surprisingly he does get his feelings hurt, not that he'd admit it.

When he opens the star-spangled door, (Tony thought he was hilarious on that one) his motions come to full halt and his heart sinks as if it were made from lead. His eyes rake over the Cream colored paper with finely typed wording that's littering his floor, bed, and even trailing into the bathroom.

There's a pounding against his chest, his vision hazes over with black, and his breathing becomes rapid; the sick feeling tugging at his stomach is replaced with a burning unadulterated rage.

A loud scream of "STAAAAARK!" echoes throughout the empty tower, and Captain America loses his resolve.

Damn control, damn human, damn the truce, and damn the consequences of murdering a man― no, a monster, a heartless fucking monster.

"That son of a bitch..." He growls, his face turning a dark shade of red as he rampages back down the hall towards the elevator, apology long forgotten.

•~°•°~•°•~°•°~•

He's so lost in his project that he doesn't hear the music volume lower and the British voice of his AI announce, 'Captain Rogers requests immediate access or he states the glass will be broken down, sir, may I suggest you allow him in.'- but he does hear the shatter of his lab door and the little pings as glass showers the tile.

He shoots up with a startled, "What the fuck?!" as the intruder strides through the broken shards and Tony catches a glimpse of Cap as he darts out of the lab.― _he doesn't blame the cat for running, fuck, he doesn't want to be here either._

Tony rolls his eyes, swiveling in his chair so he can face the captain, his famous smirk present with amused brown eyes trailing over the spandex wearing assclown. Rogers is still in his uniform, burns and scorches litter the red, white, and blue material, his cowl is off and Tony explores the minimal burns on his face, his golden hair that's singed at the tips, a split bottom lip almost healed thanks to the serum. He can tell the Captain's pissed by his tensed shoulders, how tight his fists are clenched― oh, and the part where Rogers just _smashed _through his fucking door.

Tony was done- hell, beyond done with Rogers '_I'm better than you because I have morals, Golden boy, you're not a hero' _bullshit since New York.

The small missile that once was a phone clinks against the glass surface and Tony's hand is slipping into the nearest gauntlet. In an instant he's out of the desk chair, cocking back his arm, and smashing a titanium encased fist into the captain's jaw. An expression of pain and surprise flashes across Rogers face as the soldier stumbles backwards, a hand coming up to cup where Tony's fist had made contact.

He can feel his lips twist into a cocky smirk― until he gets tackled to the floor by 200-pounds of extremely pissed off super-soldier, yeah, not cool at all…

His head swims until he's able to clear it and access whats happening. He can tell he's flat on his back, there's a strong hand on the arc reactor pinning him to the floor, and Rogers is knelt between Tony's legs glaring down at him. A witty remark about their positioning is on his tongue, but he decides to swallow it down for the sake of his face not becoming a punching bag.

For a while, hard breaths and the whir of machines are the only noise around them, he glares into Rogers artic blue eyes as he tries to move his arm and–_ oh_, he can't. The hand that isn't pinning him down is holding his wrists above his head, threatening to break them at any moment.

_―Fuck._

A growl emits from Steve's blood stained mouth and he can't help the small whimper he makes in return. He's seen the old man mad before, but he's neverpissed Rogers off enough to growl at- or attack him. It was a little alarming because, A. super-soldier and B. Tony isn't in his armor except for the gauntlet- which, like that's going to help much― but, backing down isn't an option, he's Tony fucking Stark.

•~°•°~•°•~°•°~•

He heard him whimper, it was faint and probably would have been overlooked by anyone who didn't have enhanced hearing, but Steve caught it.

Stark looked like a trapped animal, his expression was remaining stoic, but for a moment his eyes portrayed fear and vulnerability. Steve is close to letting him go and just walking away, but the image of torn books flashes across his mind and he's back to being seconds away from throttling the bastard.

•~°•°~•°•~°•°~•

Tony continues to glare up at the Captain, trying and failing to ignore the part of his brain that's tracing the other man's lips, noting the large re-opened gash on the bottom. He could picture the blonds stunning smile, all white teeth and soft pink― shit, okay, his brain needs to stop, as of, like, ten seconds ago. He does go for guys, don't get that wrong, but not golden boy pricks like Rogers. Judging by the period Mr. 90 year old blushing virgin came from, he probably doesn't have a good thought on gays, lesbians, or anal for that-

"Answer me, Stark!" Tony's eyes snap up to meet Rogers glare. Great. He hadn't even realized the asshole was talking_._

Instead of asking what he said and getting a bigger headache to add to the concussion he probably has from getting slammed into the floor, Tony swiftly hooks his legs around the blond's waist and squeezes. Rogers makes a very unmanly squeaking sound and Tony can feel the Captain tense in his grip.

His distraction works, the hold loosens on his wrists and Tony takes the opportunity to get a hand free without Rogers noticing.

"STARK! What in the-" Tony doesn't give him a chance to finish, slamming his fist into the side of Rogers face and knocking the larger man off of him. He has enough time to get on his feet, before a sharp right hook to the stomach sends him crashing back down onto the linoleum.

The pain thrumming through his upper body and head causes a groan to rumble in his throat as he rolls onto his side, eyes clenched shut.

"Put on the suit, I want to go a few rounds." There's a coolness to Captains command as it's said with a serious look in his eyes.

The pain slips to the back of Tony's mind and he gives the Captain a dangerous smirk. Just this once, Tony Stark will follow an order. If Rogers wants a fight, then that's exactly what he'll get.


	2. Shield and Armor collide

_**Alright, Chapter two, I'm going to be adding to this and fixing things so, if you have any opinions just let me know. I'm open to them all as long as you're not a total dick about it, I'm not a dick.. just sometimes sarcastic and overly honest- oh and flirty, but don't be afraid to review.. I always respond. And I promise to play nice.**_

_**Thanks for reading, you guys are great. ㈴1**_

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He stands on the platform of his workshop, the mark 7 assembling and encasing his body in hotrod red and flashy gold armor. He leaves his faceplate up, sending an antagonistic glare the Captains way.

"Are you sure you want to do this old man?" He doesn't give the other a chance to answer. "Because I have a feeling you're about to get your ass handed to you- although I can't say it isn't well deserved." He smirks at said blond whose approaching watches the blond circle around him, a predator stalking its pray― _a wolf_, before he squares up to him, they're eyes lock, staring each other down.

"Are _you _sure?" The other challenges. Tony being one who never backs down from… anything really, or a good opportunity, slides his mask down and the suit comes to life, its eyes glowing a menacing lightning blue.

He aims a blow at Rogers face and his armor clangs with something hard and― _wait where in the fuck did that shield come from?!_

_Maybe it's not a stick up his ass after all…_

There's a red, white, and blue blur and he's sent crashing into his workbench, crushing it and the papers that had been resting on it, under the suits weight. _At least he has an excuse for pepper when she asks about the documents not being signed… _

The Captain advances on him, Tony wrenches his arm from the twisted metal of the work bench and fires the repulsor in his palm to which Rogers reflects the shot off his shield as if it were a child's rubber duck, and his beam blows a hole through the wall.

He rockets upwards from the desk and aims in old glory's direction; doing a barrel roll he dodges several hits from the Captains shield and tackles him into the wall, cement cracking and crumbling around the soldiers form.

Tony no more than cuts his boosters and he's taking a roundhouse kick to the chest, hurtling through the only unbroken window, and colliding with the wall beyond his lab. He falls onto the staircase, cracking half the steps on his way down until he hits the wood floor.

He kneels, pushing off the ground to hover above it. "Sir to your-" Jarvis fails to warn him in time and the Soldiers weight is knocking Tony to the floor straddling him. He elbows Rogers in the mouth and opens his palm sending a repulsor beam into the man's unguarded chest. Steve is blown down the hall, groaning in what can only be pain, when he slams onto the floor and rolls to a stop.

Tony flies over to him and drops down by his side. "Look, I'm not the kick em' when they're down type of―" Steve surprises him by leaping up and driving his knee into Tony's stomach armor. He instinctively lurches forward and Rogers whips his shield that he most likely pulled out of his ass, into Tony's helmet. It's a devastating blow, if the sound of something cracking and the darkness that follows weren't enough to tell him that.

He rips off his helmet and throws it behind him, it's a reckless decision, but it's not like he doesn't make those on a daily basis, plus he likes being able to see, even if it's his own ass kicking he's witnessing. The shield took out his entire targeting system, meaning he has no capability of seeing the next attack with his helmet on._― the vibramium is denser than his suit and as long as he has that fucking Frisbee, Tony is going to get his ass handed to him. He pry's the shield away, he wins― _

Rogers, the quick asshole he is, runs up, backflips off the wall and kicks Tony in the jaw, he can feel the crack of bone as he slams against the wall. It's enough to take him down, but not keep him there. He almost wants to laugh but grimaces instead. Pushing himself off the ground for a second time he fires up his boot-thrusters, propelling out of the way as Rogers shield smashes into the wall he had the pleasure of being acquainted with- actually that's where his head was― did Captain America just… no, it's a mistake, he aimed too high or… something. Tony discards his musings and hovers above the ground a safe distance away from the soldier. Using a magnet in his palm he draws the disk into his hand and flings it somewhere in the wrecked lab.

The blond starts after his shield and Tony moves forward blocking his way, but Steve, the persistent dick he is, is having none of it and aims for Tony's face― _okay he gets it, spangles is pissed, when he deliberately has no fucking right after the shit he said, but here he is, lashing out at Tony. Those last blows could have killed him, Steve knows it and- son of a bitch._ Steve is_ trying _to kill him. He's fighting for his life, not settling a fucking childish disagreement. He's actually fighting Captain America and yet he still has no idea why.

"Can I ask what in the hell your problem is?" He's holding Steve's wrist in his hand and shoves the soldier back a few paces.

"You know damn well what my problem is," In a matter of seconds Steve is back in his face. Tony keeps his expression calm, although his patience's are wearing thin. "I thought things would change, that maybe you would be at least halfway decent to me, but you still walk around like you own the damn place, like you're invincible and everyone else is below you, well let me tell you, you're not." His teeth are going to break from how tight his jaw was clenched, the pain of it being a little off kilter isn't even bothering him. The blond shakes his head distastefully, "You know… You're not even worth it."

The Captain tries to push past him and Tony shoves him back again. "Keep your damn hands off-"

"Or what?" he snaps. "Are you gonna go all Super-soldier on me? Go ahead, Rogers, show me what you're made of, I've been waiting to see the labrat out of his cage―" knuckles crash into his left eye and he stumbles backwards. He ignores the cool trickle of blood rolling down the side of his face and glowers at the soldier.

"Stay. Away. from me, Stark." He warns, his fist tightened in a ball, his other hand clamped on his ribcage. _―Spangles must've cracked a couple ribs- or** he** cracked a couple of them. Good._

"Sorry, but I can't fulfill your wishes today, 'guess the well is dry, and don't try the lamp, it's a little cracked."He replies crossing his arms defiantly.

"And just why the hell not?" The captain asks, more annoyed than angry.

"Well, I mean, I'm just a tad curious as to why you were trying to _kill _me, but of course it's preposterous of me to wonder why Captain America just busted down my door-_literally_, and―"

"I didn't try to―"

"Oh, don't give me that bull―"

"Fine, I did. But you know exactly what the hell _you did_ and I'm not―"

"Am I missing something here? Because I honestly have no clue what you're talking about! I'm not Sherlock fucking Holmes, well, not today, but that's beside the point." He watches Rogers frown and cautiously approaches the blond, a curious frown of his own forming, "What is it?"

"Were you in my room?" Steve looks at him questioningly, no trace of anger left and Tony is outright fucking Alice in wonderland lost.

"No, I've been down here since-" He pauses for a moment as Steve chews on his lip and turns his gaze to the floor like some coward afraid to look at their own mistakes ―_Five minutes ago Rogers was about to go Gallagher on his head with a giant metal Frisbee, and now he's going to try and feel guilty? He's so making a mental note to burn all of Steve's clothes― after he gets out his detective hat and magnifying glass to find out what the hell is going on. _"I- you know what, can you just explain, hell, use sketches if words get to be too much. Tell me why you came in here like Mr. Kool-Aid from hell, because I think that's kind of important at the moment, don't you?" He study's Steve as the blond slowly looks up, his brows furrowing in a confused manner as his eyes search Tony's face curiously, dried blood and sweat clings to his redden skin and soaks his hair.

He can tell the adrenaline is wearing off by the little aches and large pains in his face, his head is pounding like a hangover he didn't drink to receive and if Captain Morals disfigured any part of his face then he's replacing the shield up his ass with a nuke.

Tony flicked his eyes over Rogers face, ignoring the instinct and Britney song that told him to hit the guy one more time; besides the quickly healing scrapes and bruises, the man's profile is ridiculously attractive, his eyes are the classic take your breath away crystal blue, and that's cliché as hell. It's not just Tony who finds him… appealing, who wouldn't want to get a piece of captain America? He's a damn pleasure to look at, but Tony would undeniably kill him first if they were stranded on an island, with a hundred percent chance of getting rescued.

"Tony?" A hand waves in front of his face and he's drawn from his musings to look at Steve who's still frowning.

He rolls his eyes smacks the hand from his vision to point a finger at the Captain, "We aren't on a first name basis, Rogers, and you barging in here and trying to rid this world of my good looks and clever sarcasm doesn't put you at the top of my very short friends list," He said with resentment towards the other. Tony turns and walks back onto the platform before Rogers can respond and starts on disassembling the suit.

"Here," A cold bag of ice wrapped in a blue towel is gently placed in his hand after the last of the suit is pulled off and he looks up at the apologetic Captain who lightly has his hand on Tony's side. "Tony― Mr. Stark, I'm sorry I―".

"Save it, actually no, send me a card, I've always wondered if there was a 'Sorry I tried to kill you' hallmark," He said, not so gently shoving Steve off of him so he can walk to his desk and lean on it, leaving the Captain to stand there awkwardly. If you don't like someone, don't touch them, or at least have the decency to keep a distance if they don't like you. He knows the dislike is mutual, but apparently Steve still needs to catch up with that fact.

He winces when the ice touches his bruised skin and has to stop himself from making any embarrassing sounds as he felt his jaw, not broken, but it does need to be reset. This day just gets more exciting by the second, whats next? A bouncy castle in hell?

"Someone was in my room, I was going in there… to, grab something, and whoever it was tore my books up, I thought it was you because…" Steve doesn't finish the sentence, they both know what he wasn't elaborating on. He walls over by Tony's desk and by the ten foot distance he's keeping, Tony guesses that he finally got the memo without Tony having to pull out a Ludacris CD or state it any louder to 'stay back, because you're a pain in my ass by medical definition'.

"You tried to murder me over books? Oh, I don't even care if any of them are first addition. Let me get this straight, you actually, came in here, with intent to kill, over a copy of Broke Back Mountain and huckleberry-fin―"

"So you did do it?" Tony glares over at him and chucks his icepack at the blond who ducks and catches it seemingly without a thought._ Bastard._

"Yes, and I'm also the hambugler, ripping apart the books of my enemies is just a way to pass the time after people piss me off," He takes a step back as Rogers walks towards him with a strangely focused air and he almost blurts out a string of vulgar curses when his back hits a desk. "You tried to kill me and now you're going to molest me? Wow, didn't take you for the type, Spangle's." Maybe he should get the suit, he never got warm fuzzy feelings around the guy, but after almost getting pummeled to death, yeah, not taking any chances.

"I- What? No, just, stay- stay still," Steve's hands fall to his side as he gives him a c'mon-are-you-serious, look and Tony cocked an eyebrow up at him, "If you won't accept an apology I figured I could fix your jaw… in the military I helped out a lot of injured soldiers,"

"Didn't I crack you're ribs? You should get that looked at first and kind of not touch me― hey! What did I say about―"

"Mr. Stark, please, shut the hell up," He glared childishly at the wall, Steve's hands gently cup his jaw and he tries not to wince at the touch as he's forced to look up at nurse America. Tony has a couple of options, one where he does it himself and possibly breaks his jaw, which will hurt like hell and result in his face, his gorgeous face may he add, getting mangled. Scratch that option.

"Whatever, just hurry up, I have better things, less― OW! Son of a bitch!" pain is moving through his jaw in waves, his hand twists in Steve's shirt as he clenches his eyes closed and tries to keep from falling over. Just as the thought crossed his mind two strong hands were on his hips and he huffed out a soft chuckle, "You could have counted to three".

"I did, are you okay at least?" He opens his eyes as the pain falls into a low thrum and rolls his eyes at the blond.

"I meant out loud, and besides a concussion I think I'll live to see another day filled with ninety-nine problems, bitch included". He pats Steve on the shoulder and with some force, pushes the man's hands off his hips and walks over to his main desk, which thankfully was not damaged in the little fight they had. Tony taps at a few icons on the screen to bring up security footage and Sherlock Holmes or not, he's getting to the bottom of this bullshit.

"You need to see a doctor, I think I hurt you beyond what a few days of rest and a couple bandages will fix." He hears coming from his left and turns to Rogers who is irritatingly close to him.

"There are a number of things I could recommend for you, like the flag pole being removed from up your ass and maybe a Snikers because you sort of turn into homicidal bookworm when you get hungry".

"Is everything a joke to you? Because I don't think anything about this is funny," He said in his best 'Im serious and irritated by your bullshit tone' and Tony sighed, this was going to be one hell of a long night.

"Funny things are and no, someone breaching my security system, which takes, like, me level intelligence, I'm kicking their ass,"

"It was probably Clint―"

"On a mission with Natasha, Thors in Asgaurd, Bruce is somewhere in the Congo, and Fury doesn't have a personal vendetta against you that I know of, so either you have an angry ex you've been hiding from us or someone had a reason to shred your favorite bedtime stories," He turned to the screen and pulled up footage from Steve's floor, the blonds side almost touching his own as they fell into an oddly comfortable silence.

Seeing as a little bit ago he was almost being killed by the world's angriest bookworm, he could say it was a little, or a great amount of strange to be working almost calmly with the other. He doesn't follow orders well, he isn't exactly a fan of being pushed around like a pawn on a chessboard, and Steve delivers orders like the pizza guy in a cliché porno, you never get any pizza or satisfaction. They don't play well with each other unless the world is in peril and at times that didn't even make them hold hands and say nice things about one another.

The footage finally got to the timeframe of when the hacking must've been, whoever did it was quite enough to go undetected by Jarvis, which, that on its own gave him an eerie feeling. Something in the back of the lab crashes and Steve spins around to the commotion at the same time he does.

"Get your Shield―"

"Got it, put on the suit," Tony nods and dashes back to the platform to assemble a new prototype, maybe it's not the best time to try out a new toy, but hopefully Steve still didn't intend on him taking a dirt nap.

He looked through the eyes of his mark lllX, sharing an affirming glance with Rogers before looking towards the thing that's now insisting on playing hide and seek. Who, or whatever it was, picked the wrong day to play games.


	3. Fury's thoughts

**_I just thought I would try something and give you fury's point of view on the whole Steve/me(Tony) situation._**

* * *

An agitated man sat at the end of a long table, the lighting in the room was dim, but still enough to illuminate the area in a soft yellow.

He glanced down at the glass in his hands and sighed shaking his head in a disapproving manner. "These motherfuckers need to build a god damn bridge, fuck and get over it... or I swear I'm about to lock both of their stupid asses in a closet, until these assholes admit some shit- or at least make nice, this shit is getting older then me." He said tiredly.

"In all my god. Damn. Years... these motherfuckers.." The annoyed man mumbled and took a sip from the glass of scotch he was holding.

"These two are blind as my right fuckin' eye... Pissin' me right off, I mean who in the hell?- ugh! Its too late for this shit." Fury stood and left his empty glass on the conference table, the ice still melting as it sweat onto the mahogany. He fixed the pink hello kitty boxers he had chosen to wear and made sure to close his leather coat. Fury gave the glass one last glance and went back to his own quarters.

He wanted to get some rest and think about something besides stupid love-struck motherfuckers.


End file.
